


Self-Medication

by tposing_sniper



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Established Relationship, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, changing up the norm with Medic being the addict, no beta we die like heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29200563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tposing_sniper/pseuds/tposing_sniper
Summary: Medic tries to quit heroin. Its not an easy path, but Spy is there to help.
Relationships: Medic/Spy (Team Fortress 2)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read the tags. This is heavy and potentially triggering fic
> 
> I've not personally suffered from any sort of drug addiction. There was lots of research done for this fic, and I've done my best not to glamorize or romanticize drug addiction/drugs. If anything is factually incorrect I am more then willing to edit/take it down

“You said that last time would be the last time.”

If Medic had not been so deliciously high, he would have caught the choking of breath, the stress and worry behind Spy’s words. Instead, he heard nothing but a faint hum behind the sound of the man speaking. The words were heard, but no real meaning stood behind them. Medic knew that it was polite to answer, but was there a need? Did it matter? He’d much rather just sit here, enjoy the tingling feeling as he slowly wiggled his fingers. Spy sounded so far away, anyhow. It was doubtful if he would even hear Medic’s response. 

“Med?”

The words kept coming. Medic groaned, and slid away from them. Into the darkness, and blissful euphoria.

Medic awoke slowly. There was pressure on his chest. Blinking, he peered down at the blurry shape on top of him. Spy. 

_ Fuck. He caught me. _

By the time Medic had found his glasses, the Frenchman had woken up. He stared at the doctor, face carefully neutral. Despite this, Medic noted the moistness around his eyes, and the tightness of his slim frame. He was upset. With good reason, Medic relented. He  _ had _ been lied to.

“Good morning.”

“A good morning, it is  _ not _ .” Spy’s voice was icy. His exhausted eyes bore into Medic’s.

Faint tendrils of guilt began to seep through Medic. He tried to ignore the nagging feeling.

“I...suppose not.” Medic sighed, gaze flickering away. “Look, Spy, I…” 

“You  _ what _ , Eric? ‘You have it under control? You know vhat you’re doing, so don’t vorry?’ You’re addicted to fucking  _ heroin _ !” Spy’s voice rose as he spat Medic’s words back at him. “There’s no such thing as a  _ ‘controlled’ _ heroin addiction! Eric, you can’t keep  _ fucking _ doing this.” Voice cracking, Spy grabbed Medic’s arm and pulled back his sleeve, revealing the ugly blotches and bruises that ran along it. “You don’t fucking understand. I...I stayed here all night, just listening to your heart, making sure it was still  _ beating _ . Eric, you’re going to kill yourself. Please, just  _ stop. _ ”

Medic flinched at Spy’s words. His very familiar words. “I told you.” Medic tried to speak as comfortingly as he could. “Zhe doses are carefully measured. Zhere’s also no risk of it being laced vith anything else. Spy,  _ Maxine _ ,” Medic’s voice softened as he spoke his lover’s name. “I know you vorry. But I’m fine. It’s just a...a hobby. Vay of easing off zhe stress of daily battles. Zhat’s all.”

“You told me you would stop.” Sober, Medic heard the heartbreak all too well. The  _ disappointment _ .

“I...tried too. Really. I did.”

“And now you’re back to using. So you admit you have a problem. And yet you still defend it.” Thick with accusation, Spy’s voice was strained and tired. 

“It’s...necessary for my maximum efficiency-“

“It's an  _ addiction _ , that’s what it is! God, Eric, you’re so smart, how do you not  _ see _ this? You know what.” Spy took a deep breath. “Screw this. I’m telling the team, like I should have done long ago. I can’t help you on my own. You need your team's support. To get well again.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Medic’s voice has sharpened, and he yanked his arm from Spy’s grasp, pulling down the sleeve sharply. 

“I will. Don’t think you can stop me. It’s for your own good, Eric.”

“Maxine. Max! Please, their faith in me would be shattered. They can’t lose faith in their Medic-“

“It’s more important that you get well, then to save your foolish pride.”

Spy’s words felt like sharp blows.  _ I can’t let this happen. I can’t let my secret out. _

“Max. Look, I’ll…try harder this time. As hard as I can. I’ll stop this time. Just...god, please don’t tell them. Bitte. I can...I can do this. For you.”

There was a tense pause. 

“One last chance, Eric. Then I will go to the team.” Spy relented. Turning, he stiffly left Medic’s room.

Medic’s body sagged with relief.  _ I guess I need to try now. Fuck. I like heroin.  _ The redundant thought amused Medic, but he kept his laughter strictly inwards. He needed to appear serious for Spy. Hell, he needed to  _ be _ serious. This little...habit of his was fun, immensely fun at that...but it can’t get in the way of his job.  _ And...Spy’s been so stressed and worried ever since he found out. It would be nice to see him smile and laugh like he used too. It’s not fair to him.  _

  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

The afternoon sun irritated Medic. His bitter coffee irritated him. The mewling boy in front of him irritated him. 

The irritation was common, almost routine at this point. Medic was used to being a bit testy in the afternoons, when the cravings began to pick up. Except this time they wouldn't be sated. The thought alone put Medic in a bad mood. 

His team knew how pissy he got in the afternoon, as well. So why was Scout chittering on so?

“And then Doc, that stupid Solly looked the wrong way! I was running circles around him, man! Dumbass didn’t know which way to turn. I almost made him sick, I bet. Course, he got a sweet look at my rockin’ bod when he died, so I’m sure that was some comfort. You’re probably wondering how I killed him. Well, all it took was one glorious swing of my bat-”

Scout crumpled.

Medic dusted off the shotgun half-heartedly. Not his favourite weapon, but it did the job. Scout finally was quiet. He tossed the gun onto the owner's fading body. Scout would respawn in a couple seconds, and then hopefully would use what's left of his brains to stay the hell away from Medic.

“Medic, what the hell?” A loud voice broke his hope. Medic turned around swiftly, anger mounting. 

Engineer was glaring at him, Scout behind, peeking into the doorway. “You wanna tell me why you just off’ed one of yer own teammates?”

Medic treated the Engineer with a glare of his own. “He vas fucking annoying me. Vouldn’t shut up.”

Engineer spread his arms open. “That's no reason to  _ kill _ the boy! Really Medic, what's gotten into you?”

It's what  _ wasn’t _ going into him that was the problem. The fact that he’d gone almost  _ eight hours _ without heroin. Medic closed his eyes in frustration, trying to reign in his rapidly spiralling cravings. “Look, just, just leave me  _ alone _ . God, I can’t _ fucking  _ handle zhis right now!”

“Medic? Wait, pardner, what's wrong?” Engineer’s voice had gone from angry to concerned. 

“Nothing.” Medic snapped. “I just...need to rest. I’ll be  _ fine. _ ” Snatching up his awful coffee, Medic tried to exit the room. Engineer blocked his path.

“Engineer, if you don’t move zhis fucking instant, I vill shatter zhis mug over your skull.” Medic hissed, raising the mug in warning.

Although Scout flinched, the Engineer didn’t seem phased. He opened his mouth, but before he could respond he was cut off by a french accent.

“What is going on here?”

Neither men answered. Scout spoke up. “Uhh...Doc’s gone crazy. He killed me, an’ he's threatening to do in ol’ Engie as well.”

“Med?” Spy looked at Medic, his concern evident behind his mask. Medic looked away, scowling.

“Med. Put down the mug please.” Spy’s voice was soft, imploring. Medic obeyed. 

Kind of.

The mug shattered on impact, spilling coffee across the floor. Despite his stoic visage, the Engineer let out a sigh of relief that the mug went into the floor, and not his nose.

“Aw, hell.”   
  


“Merde.”

“Doc, what the  _ hell _ man?”

Amidst his teammates cries, Medic felt a sick sense of satisfaction in shattering the mug. He strode past them, not even stopping to acknowledge Spy. Let them deal with the damn mess. 

He didn’t know how long he’d been pacing in his room. He just knew couldn’t stop moving. His whole body felt full of nervous energy. He was sweating a lot as well, more than normal for the exercise he was doing. Medic hissed in annoyance as he rubbed the sweat off his brow. How many hours has it been now? Ten? Twenty A thousand? He had no concept of time. He would probably be tired, if it was night. But he wasn't. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop pacing. His skin crawled, confused why the daily routine wasn’t happening. Why he wasn’t piercing his skin, filling it with hot emphoria. Why he wasn’t high right now. It didn’t understand, so it screamed at him, demanding the drugs. He obviously didn’t have them here, so have a bunch of energy and  _ go get them.  _

Except he couldn’t. So he paced. 

Eventually he must have passed out, because he woke up the next morning feeling like hell. He’d missed the bed, and spent a restless night on the cold floor.

Despite how awful everything was, Medic was no stranger to it. He’d tried to quit before, after all. The worst was yet to come.


	3. Chapter 3

His body was cruel. It was only when in the middle of a cross fire, at around ninety-seven percent Uber, that it decided to _ fully _ voice its complaints.

Medic gasped and stumbled forward as the ground below him swayed. Waves of nausea hit as he tried to focus on the Heavy in front of him. He was almost at full Uber, he just needed to... _ god  _ his hands were shaking. His knees felt weak, then felt the hard dusty ground as he fell forward. Gun clattering next to him, blue bar almost full, Medic curled into a ball. Tears started to fall, his teeth clenching so hard his jaw hurt. His whole body hurt in fact, crying out in anger as it demanded the drugs, then doubling over and crying out in pain as it was filled with hot lead instead. The pain was unbearable, and it didn’t end. Dusty dirt of Upward was replaced with cool tiles of the respawn room, but the torment remained. Slick with sweat and barely conscious, Medic groaned and writhed in agony as Heavy respawned next door him.

“Doktor! What happen? We could have-“ his angry complaint was cut short by the miserable scene in front of him. “D...Doktor? What is matter?”

“Don’t worry Heavy.” A thin French accent broke through the sound of Medic’s frenzied heartbeat.  _ Spy. Maxine. He’s here, he can make it better. My love, my love, my schatz. _

“Don’t worry? But Doktor look very bad. Curl on floor, shaky.”

“It’s alright. He’s going to be fine. I’ll take care of him, you go fight. Medic probably won’t be able to finish the fight, so tell Engie where best to place his dispensers.”

“Alright.” Heavy ran through the door, stopping on a convenient teleporter. As he spun away, his loud shout was cut off. “Engineer! POOTIS-“

Through aching breaths and blurry vision, Medic tried his best to communicate with Spy. “‘Probably von’t be able to fight’? Zhat’s a cheap joke...I feel like, like,  _ hell _ , Max. And...I do not say zhat lightly.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so proud of you though, my love. You’re doing so well. This is the worst part, but it’ll get better, easier from here.” As he spoke, Spy gently stroked Medic’s matted hair, which was damp with sweat. He continued to murmer words of encouragement, as Medic groaned, hating his aching and cramping body. The words didn’t help much, but they sure as hell were better then going through it alone.

_ It's been 26 hours. It’s been 26 hours since I...  _ The thought made Medic involuntarily swallow, longing threatening to take over. He had sat up when the nausea faded, but now it was returning, stronger. His face, hell, his whole body was drenched in sweat. As it dried, it sent shivers down Medic’s spine. His hands were clammy, shaking, even though nowhere did he read about shaking as a withdrawal symptom. It could be just his own anxiety, or...another wave of nausea hit, so strong Medic’s vision was replaced with stars for a moment. He moaned, clenching his jaw shut. He wasn’t going to throw up, not here, not now. 

“Shh. Sit up, my love. It’ll feel better.” Spy’s gentle words provided slight respite. Medic did his best to straighten, unaware that he had been doubled over again. Eyes filled with tears and stinging sweat, he faced his love. Spy hadn’t returned to the battle. He was there, pushed up against him. His anchor. 

_ He...supports me so much. I don’t...deserve this. _

There was a ding as Sniper respawned. He gave a concerned look to Medic and Spy, who had moved aside to one of the benches. “Doc doing any better?”

“I’m afraid not.” Spy’s calm words didn’t betray his anxiety. Medic could feel his love’s rapid pulse through his hand...or was that  _ his _ pulse? Did...he have a heartbeat? Everything was just spinning, tilting, lines of motion that Medic desperately tried to follow, but he only ended up lost and falling. God, it felt like he was hurtling through the floor, his stomach doing flips. 

The rough Aussie voice dragged him back a little. Gave Medic something to focus on. “Right bloody shame you can’t return to the base. Don’t seem right, having the doc stuck out ‘ere when he's sick. Have you tried pointing the Medi-gun at him?”

Medic groaned. Sniper had not been the first respawned merc to suggest such a thing. Luckily, Spy answered for him.

“It doesn’t seem to be working.”

That was a lie. The truth was they didn’t try, because they knew it wouldn’t work. In order for Medic to...get past this, his body needed to go through this lesson. If he just artificially healed, he’d be just back where he started when the Medi-gun switched off. 

God, he wanted heroin. More than anything. Desperation began to overthrow rational thinking. He had some in his lab, he just needed to, to...get to the base somehow. If he could bypass the shield that kept them trapped in the battleground, then he could-

Spy was kissing him, his soft lips short-circuiting Medic’s thinking for a moment. “I believe in you, mon amour. My love.”

Medic’s resolve grew. He could do this, would do this. For Maxine.


	4. Chapter 4

Spy had stayed with him all day, as long as he could. Unfortunately, he couldn’t stay forever. The Administrator had called him away for a quick night mission. Spy had clasped Medic’s hands and promised he would return shortly. He didn’t want to go, and Medic didn't want him to leave. Yet what else could they do? Spy had offered to tell the Engineer at least, so that he could keep an eye on Medic, but Medic and his stubborn pride had flat-out refused. Only Spy was allowed to know.

_ My hand hurts. _ Alone in his room, the cravings were almost insatiable. _ Vhy the hell does my hand hurt so much- oh.  _ He was scratching it. Over and over, still was as he looked down at the crossing bright red lines.  _ Vhen did I take off my gloves?  _ He should stop. Needlessly hurting himself was the last thing he needed to do right now. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop scratching. Trimmed nails scraped across worn skin, repeatedly, over and over. Digging, pulling, layer upon layer until the pain was almost too much to bear. His hand was wet. Looking down, he saw it was slick with blood. His blood. “Oh.” He said, lightheaded. Blood was getting on the white sleeve of his lab coat. How improper. He rolled it up, revealing the mess of black scars and bruises underneath.

The sight of the proof of his addiction enraged Medic. He wanted to tear the bruises away, tear this awful feeling away. So he tried. Bloody hands burst open old bruises and scars. The pain worsened his nausea, and lurching forward, Medic slammed his poor hand into the cool steel table. Gripping it tightly, blood and vomit splattered the floor. Gasping, Medic tried to wipe the sweat that was dripping into his eyes. He only succeeded in getting bloody fingerprints over his glasses and smearing blood across his brow. 

“Fricken…” Medic moaned, lowering himself to the floor. Although his eyes were clamped shut, tears forced their way out. His chest hurt, his stomach hurt,  _ oh god _ , everything burned, His body and mind screamed at him for relief. For  _ herion _ . Doubling over, clutching his heads in agitation, Medic let out a guttural scream. He raked his bloody nails, tearing long ribbons of red down his pale face. It hurt. It hurt so _ , so _ bad. But if he was feeling pain, that meant he was still sober. Still here. For Spy. For Spy.

“Maxine.” Medic gasped, rubbing his cheeks and feeling the explosion of agony that came from them. He repeated that sweet word. “Max.” His love. His love's name, that only he was allowed to know. The man who was worth this self-torment. 

“Max.”

And that's where Maxine found him, cold and sitting surrounded by blood and vomit.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is a bit longer then the rest, sorry about that

“Eric! Eric, please, please wake up!”

Frantic yelling and shaking torn Medic from his peaceful sleep. As he woke, the putrid smell of old vomit and dried blood hit his nostrils, and he involuntarily gagged. His throat was dry, and the motion set off a wave of coughing. 

“Eric. Mon amour. Oh, thank God. Eric, can you hear me? Open your eyes?” The relief in Spy’s voice was almost palpable.

“My arm hurts…” Medic mumbled, eyes still shut. He didn’t want to look at the world right now. Shifting his aching arm, he hissed as the dry blood that glued it to the floor yanked at his arm hairs. Wrenching it free, he felt new wet blood begin to weep out again. Soft silk gently took his arm, and soothed it slowly. The silk was warm, and fingers long. Spy’s hand.

“Oui. It's quite injured. I’ll bandage it.”

“Max, I’m  _ cold _ .” Medic’s hand, aside from the constant pain, felt numb and frozen.

Medic could feel Spy’s fingers shake as he wrapped his arm with cotton. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. I would use the Medi-gun, but…”

“Ja…” Medic finally opened his eyes. The room was painfully bright. Squinting as he vision faded from white and began to form shapes, Medic was greeted with a mess of black and grey curls. 

“You...took off your mask.” A pleasant surprise in a world of hell. Spy’s face was a beautiful and rare treat.

Spy’s eyes snapped up to meet him. He was pale, eyes wide and anxious. His hands had stopped wrapping, and they trembled above Medic’s hand.

“Oui, I…” Spy looked away. His voice lowered in shame. “It was smothering me. I couldn’t breath when I saw you…”

“I’m sorry.”

Spy shook his head, hair bouncing slightly. “Don’t be. It’s  _ my  _ fault, I shouldn’t have left you to deal with it alone. I’m so sorry, Eric.”

Closing his eyes again, Medic chose not to answer. What could he say? He felt himself drifting off again. Being in so much pain was exhausting.

A wet cloth was slowly being dabbed on his face. The warm water felt good, but Medic grimaced. “Use cold vater.”

“But you said you were-”

“Cold. It’s better to clean vounds with cold vater.” Medic insisted. He opened his eyes again, still squinting. He hadn't noticed it the first time, but his glasses were really filthy. “Maybe I can-”

“ _ Non _ . I can do this. You need to just lay down and rest right now.” Spy’s voice was tight. He stood up, and quickly went over to the tap.

The monotonous sound of the tap running was nice. It reminded Medic of his poor throat, though. “Max...can I have some vater bitte?”

Spy flinched. “Merde. Oui, of course, I should have given you some right away. I-”

“Stop apologizing. You're doing great. Danke.” Medic raised his good arm to take the glass, but found his fingers could barely move around the cup. 

Noticing his weak grip, Spy immediately knelt down in front of him. “Here.” he murmured, bringing the glass to Medic’s lips. Cool water flowed past them, and Medic let out a sigh of relief as it soothed his rough throat.

“Zhat’s...better.” It was a little ridiculous, he thought to himself in wry amusement. That a heroin addict could get such emphoria from  _ water _ . Ex _ -heroin addict. _ He corrected sharply, feeling a pang in stomach. Ex. And it was going to stay that way.

With a nod, Spy went back to the sink to wet more clothes. Feeling a bit roused from the drink, Medic finally looked down at himself. It wasn’t a pretty sight. His formerly white lab coat was covered with blood, and a bit of vomit. His left arm was bandaged well, all things considered. Despite this, blood was already beginning to seep through the cotton, joining the dried blood that both of his arms were covered in. Medic tried to rub the dried blood off his left hand with his right. It didn’t work very well. 

“Eric, _ arrêtez _ !” 

Spy’s loud outburst halted Medic’s attempts to clean himself. He flinched, jerking his head upward. “V-vhat?”   
  


Spy was close, and his eyes intense. He grabbed Medic’s left wrist, and Medic let out a bark of pain. “Vhat zhe hell are you  _ doing _ ?”

Spy examined Medic’s wrist for a heartbeat, and quickly released it. Medic yanked his wrist back, clutching it against his chest. He shuddered in fresh pain, lungs heaving. Tears began to flow as he looked up at Spy in agony. “Zhat _ hurt _ !”

“I...I thought…” Spy mumbled, looking horrified with himself as he stared at the curled man in front of him. “I thought you were scratching yourself again, I’m sorry!  _ Mon Dieu _ , fuck! Eric, are you-”

“I’m fine.” Medic lied through gritted teeth, trying desperately to regain control of his breathing.  _ Maxine meant vell.  _ Still hunched over, Medic attempted to stand. The world shifted under him, and his head spun again. Closing his eyes against the stars of dizziness, Medic used his good hand to pull himself up. Leaving heavily on the table next to him, Medic let out a long breath.  _ Good. You're up. Now, breathe. It's ok.  _ Opening his eyes, he saw Spy looking at him, guilt and hiestation etched on every feature. 

“Can...you help me to zhe bathroom?” The simple request brought a flush of shame to Medic’s cheeks.  _ I hate this...being so weak I can hardly stand, can’t hold a dumm glass of water...fuck. _

“Of course.” Spy carefully went to Medic’s right side and took his weight off of the table. Arm sturdily wrapped around him, but carefully avoiding his left arm, Spy led Medic to the bathroom. Even though the pace was slow, about halfway there the nausea became too much for Medic to bear.

“Stop.” He gasped. “I need…”  _ A break. A nap. A vay to relieve zhis pain, zhis torment. _ The vile word slipped out. “...heroin. Maxine,  _ please _ .” he begged, desperate for an end, a release. What was the point of struggling anymore? What was the  _ damn  _ point? He’d suffered enough. It was never going to end. Not without his sweet liquid heaven.

Spy’s grip on him had tightened. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’m so sorry Eric. I can’t.”

“Max...please Max, I can’t, I can’t, I feel like I’m _ dying _ .” Medic groaned, longing overwhelming him. “Please. Maxine, _ please _ !” More tears came as Medic pleaded to his love.

“I’m sorry Eric.” Tears trickled down Spy’s face as well as he denied his love. 

Medic sagged, his brief attempts exhausting him further. “You’re just going to let me die…?” His voice was weak and pitiful.

“You're not going to die. I promise. Eric, you're...not in the right head right now. I promise, it will get better. Do you remember what temperature water should be to wash wounds?”

“Vhat?” The random question didn’t make any sense to Medic. Something nagged at him, that he should know, but his thought felt so jumbled and heavy he couldn’t sort it out. “Uhm...If I tell you, vill you give me heroin?”

“No.” Spys voice was quiet, yet filled with determination. “I’m not going to lose you again.”

Medic lowered his gaze, suddenly overcome with guilt from Spy’s words. “I’m...sorry. It’s just, so hard, I…”

“I know. It's alright. Are you ready to continue?”

Wordlessly, Medic nodded. They finished their trip to the washroom in silence. 

Standing in the middle of the room, Medic braved a look into the mirror. He immediately wished he didn’t. He didn’t recognize the man staring back.

He was skinnier than he remembered. His greying hair was in disarray, and deep purple shadows hung under his eyes. His glasses were askew and filthy, and long bloody lines ran down his cheeks. There was two-day old stubble forming on his jaw. He unconsciously rubbed it as he looked at himself.

“Mien Gott...I’m...a mess…”

“Here, let me help bath you.” Spy had come up beside him, and slowly drew his gaze away from the mirror.

“Ok.” Medic stood still as Spy slowly undressed him. It felt good to get out of the bloodstained clothes. Spy’s hands on his bare chest weren't too bad either.

Down to his boxers, Medic snuck another look in the mirror. He definitely lost weight.  _ Vhen did zhat happen? _ It's not that Medic was very heavy before, but without his little bit of extra padding he went from sturdy middle-aged man to frail old man rather quickly. It was a disturbing effect.

_ Oh god _ . Realization struck him, and his body immediately went into overdrive. Heart pumping impossibly fast, Medic turned to Spy, his breath came in quick gasps. “Spy, I’m in the bathroom.”

Spy looked from where he’d been running the warm water. “Oui. You’re going to have a bath, remember?”

“No, no, Spy, don’t you  _ understand _ ?  _ My _ bathroom! I, I have-'' And Medic was desperately throwing open drawers, laughing hysterically. He was so _ close _ ! He just needed to find his quick-fix bag, and this would all go away. Fingers brushed a familiar needle. 

“Eric, non!” Spy tackled him, slamming him into the floor. The needle flew from his grasp, landing with a clatter a few feet away. 

“Max, let me go!” Medic barked, desperately scrabbling at Spy's grip. Spy was smaller than him, surely he could break free. Desperation drove him onwards, even as his strength began failing him. “Spy, please,  _ please _ ! Oh, gott, bitte! Bitte, bitte, bitte!” Crying and pleading in more incoherent German, Medic begged for his freedom.

Spy wouldn’t let go. A feet feet away from his love, being held back by his other love, Medic sobbed. This was worse than  _ Hell, _ and he’d had first time experience in that regard.

Eventually he stopped struggling. Still, Spy held him tight.


	6. Chapter 6

“Eric?”

“...Ja?”

“I’m going to let you go. I want you to stay exactly where you are. Can you do that?”

“Ja.”

“Ok. Stay still, my love.”

Slowly Spy released his grip. Medic kept his eyes clamped shut, curling into a ball. The limousine floor was cold on his bare skin.

For what felt like an eternity, Medic laid on that cruel floor, hating everything and everyone. Most of all, himself. 

A warm hand stirred him. 

Spy was smiling gently. “You’re shivering. Would you like to have a bath? The waters still warm.”

Medic nodded.

As Spy helped his frail body up, Medic couldn’t help but scan the room for the needle. He didn’t see it.

“I took it away.” Spy answered his unspoken question. “It won’t tempt you again.”

Wordlessly, Medic stripped off his boxers and sunk into the soapy water. He sighed in relief as the warmth seeped into his cold bones. The water also sunk through the bandages of his arms. His wounds began to burn at the touch of the liquid.

Still, it was a different pain from before. When before his pain was self-destructive, this was a cleansing pain. So even though it burned, Medic bore the pain gratefully. Bending his knees out of the water, he lowered his face and shoulders in.

His knees were cold. But his face was burning, in both temperature and pain. Too late, Medic realised that he still had his glasses on.

Taking a gasp of air as he surfaced, he blindly took them off. 

“Here.” Spys gloved hand was held out. Medic placed his sudsy glasses in it.

“Danke.”

“No worries. Would you like me to wash you?”

“Not my arms or face. It's not good to rub soap into open vounds. But, maybe, my back?”

“Of course. Sit up, mon amour.”

Medic complied, wincing as the warm water was once again replaced by cold air. At least his legs could be fully submerged again, and his knees warmed.

Soft cloth and warm water gently rubbed his back. Running along his aching muscles, it felt good. So good, even the brief humiliation of being washed by another person was forgotten.

As Spy caressed and cleaned his love, he murmured sweet words in French. Medic didn’t understand everything he said, but the soft words soothed him.

“Maxine…”

“Oui?”

“Vhy...vhy are you doing all zhis? Most people vould have...just left me.”

“I love you, Eric.” Spy smilied, stroking Medic’s cheek. 

“But…”

“Shhh. Don’t doubt me, my love.” Spy leaned forward, and his lips met Medic’s. The kiss sent waves of warmth through Medic. 

“And…” Spy broke apart, bare hand still on Medic’s cheek. “You love me so much. How could I not repay you?”

“I lied to you. I...put you zhrough  _ so much _ pain. It would be entirely understandable, if you vere to-”

“You gave up one of the most addictive drugs on the planet for me. You put yourself through a torment most people couldn’t have dreamed of, for me.”

Medic smiled. “I did. I am. It’s not over yet.”

“No.” Spy agreed. “It's not. The journey will be long and rough, but I will walk with you each step of the way. I promise.” He clasped Medic’s hand. “Together, Eric.”

Medic nodded. It had been a long few days, and there were many more to go. But together they shall prevail. “Together.”


End file.
